The Face of a Father by Margaret P.

by Margaret P.

More than an hour past since the screaming had been too much for Johnny and he had run from the room.

At least half an hour since the last recrimination had permeated the thick walls of the hacienda to the great room where the other three men waited in silence, staring into the fire, lost in their own thoughts.

Movement caught Scott’s eye. As he rose to his feet the others followed, all staring towards the door way.

Johnny stepped from the shadow, wet faced, with a look of stunned awe.

“I’d like you all to meet John Murdoch Lancer.”




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